It's a bit too late for some things - J's voice and guitar instructor closed his studio in town. He will still be teaching down in WV, but the trip is too far to make on a regular basis. She also missed prom and her show, "Seussical the Musical." L missed her last year of Middle School Track and Field.
JP is still self isolating down stairs in the guest suite, and there is no end in sight to that bit of pandemic life. I feel very alone.
J will be able to finish up her pottery from her class in the spring soon, and I have been given the green light to return to work at the end of June.
I am feeling something like Edna St. Vincent Millay describes in another section of her poem, "Renascence."
...And all at once the heavy night
Fell from my eyes and I could see,-
A drenched and dripping apple-tree,
A last long line of silver rain,
A sky grown clear and blue again.
And as I looked a quickening gust
Of wind blew up to me and thrust
Into my face a miracle
Of orchard-breath, and with the smell,-
I know not how such things can be!-
I breathed my soul back into me.
Ah! Up then from the ground sprang I
And hailed the earth with such a cry
As is not heard save from a man
Who has been dead, and lives again.
About the trees my arms I wound;
Like one gone mad I hugged the ground;
I raised my quivering arms on high;
I laughed and laughed into the sky...
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